The Death Games
by Chrysim
Summary: Iolaus gets himself into serious trouble with slavers and it's Hercules to the rescue!


The Death Games  
  
by Chrysim  
  
  
  
  
  
It was very early and very rainy as Hercules entered the Casa del Amea tavern in Thebes. There were only afew people in the place and they all greeted him warmly as he approached the counter. Markos, the tavernkeeper, turned around and smiled brightly when he saw him, " Welcome, Hercules. Don't tell me you've come all the way from Corinth in such miserable weather? "  
  
Shaking his long sodden hair like a drenched dog, Hercules wiped the rivulets of rain from his damp face and replied, " It wasn't raining when I left. Anyway, I'm sure the farmers are happy about it. We've had a very dry summer. " He looked at Markos, " Where's that dilly-dallying partner of mine, Markos? ", he asked with a grin.  
  
Hercules was a very tall, lean and muscular man. He had long golden brown hair that framed his handsome face and his deep blue eyes were riveting. He was renown far and wide for his courage, compassion and conscience. While he was capable of intense fury Hercules was better known for his thoughtfulness and intellect. Even soaked to the skin as he was now, this exceptional son of Zeus was dynamic and imposing.  
  
Markos frowned, " That's very odd, come to think of it. He ought to be back by now. ", he muttered half to himself.  
  
Hercules cleared his throat and Markos realised he was babbling, " I mean, really! Our Iolaus rest or relax?! I don't think so! After just one day he was bored to tears. ", Markos explained with several shrugs.  
  
His younger brother's limitless energy and need for action was the opposite of his sedate, sedentary lifestyle. It was a mystery to him why his brother was as exuberant as he was yet it was a defining characteristic that no one could imagine Iolaus lacking.  
  
Markos continued, " So yesterday he decided to go visit Evanthea in Parthea. You know Iolaus. ", he said with a wink.  
  
Hercules smiled broadly. Indeed! Give Iolaus a day off and he'd find a girl to spend it with if he didn't find a fight first.  
  
Still, Iolaus was as dependable as the sunrise and he knew they were supposed to rendez-vous at the crossroads today. Parthea wasn't that far away either.  
  
Hercules frowned as a sense of unease began to spread in his subconscious. Something wasn't right.  
  
He tried to keep his worry to himself as he smiled at Markos, " I guess I'll go up to Parthea and fetch that incorrigible little swain in person. Take care, Markos. ", he said lightly and headed for the door.  
  
Despite his rotund size Markos moved with commendable speed and caught Hercules before he could depart, " Are you thinking what I'm thinking?", he asked almost reluctantly.  
  
His brother's awesome ally's expression was serious, " If you're referring to the reports of slavers being in that area then we're on the same track. ", Hercules replied frankly.  
  
Markos was an ex-soldier and the truth rarely phased him because he was so relentlessly realistic. Besides, Markos knew his brother all too well. If there was trouble in or around Parthea, Iolaus would find it; one way or another.  
  
Markos nodded, " I warned Iolaus it wasn't safe to go to Parthea these days. I've heard that these slavers are very particular and very brutal. Rumour even has it that they're supplying the Death Games in Yasserupas.", he said quickly. His voice betrayed both his repugnance of the topic under discussion and his worry.  
  
Hercules didn't blame Markos at all for his revulsion nor for his concern. In fact he shared it. Hercules strenuously opposed slavery at every opportunity just on principle.  
  
Iolaus, on the other hand, had a very personal reason for hating such a practice. For once, long ago, he'd actually been sold into slavery himself!  
  
So to them both, any form of slavery was abhorrent and worth fighting to eradicate. Yet the brand of slavery Markos had mentioned was by far the worse kind.  
  
Yasserupas was the fortified mountain stronghold of Thessala's most infamous warlord, Euphrastus. He was a proponent of what he called 'blood sports'.  
  
He glorified gruesome hand-to-hand spectacles not only for his own sadistic pleasure but also to satiate the perverted appetites of wealthy patrons who actually paid to witness such barbarism.  
  
Euphrastus was sly and employed a complex network of spies to keep him informed of all current news in the region.  
  
Not only would he be aware by now that Iolaus was in Parthea, he would also know who Iolaus was because of his wide-spread, hard-won reputation.  
  
Hercules's fear was that a fighter of Iolaus's calibre might very well represent a prize Euphrastus couldn't resist. In which case, his intrepid ally would be in alot of trouble.  
  
Hercules patted Markos reassuringly on his beefy shoulder, " Let's not jump to conclusions, Markos. Perhaps Evanthea persuaded Iolaus to linger until the weather improves. ", Hercules said as convincingly as he could.  
  
Ordinarily Iolaus was quite capable of taking care of himself but Hercules wasn't about to take a chance that this might be the one time he couldn't.  
  
Markos nodded, " Maybe you're right, Hercules. It wouldn't take much effort for a pretty girl to persuade Iolaus to stay afew extra hours with her. "  
  
With that half-hearted endorsement Hercules opened the door and disappeared into the torrential downpour again.  
  
Markos was still worried, though, as he closed the door behind him, " I do hope you're right, Hercules, that the weather's the only trouble Iolaus has to contend with. "  
  
Parthea was a small quaint village in the rolling foothills of the Thermopolyan Mountains. On the other side of the mountains lay wild Thessala, home to all manner of criminal, cutthroat and brigand imaginable.  
  
It was just after noon and the sky was threatening when Iolaus emerged from the great Verdolin forest and smiled at the picturesque little village.  
  
Iolaus was of average height and had a lean, powerful athletic build. He was deceptively strong and as quick as lightning, with exceptional endurance, iron will-power and the sort of courage only heroes possessed. He was youthfully handsome with an unruly thatch of wavy blonde hair and sparkling azure blue eyes.  
  
By nature, Iolaus was the complete opposite of his illustrious partner Hercules. He was passionate, impetuous and full of-spirit whereas Hercules was more easy- going, cautious and reasonable.  
  
They were both dedicated defenders of the defenseless, proud protectors of justice and strongly committed to aiding and abetting anybody who solicited their help.  
  
Together they'd driven out sundry usurpers, restored peace and harmony to countless cities and states, fomented rebellions and fought for every just cause imaginable while also battling monsters, tyrants and thwarting the convoluted plots of certain unscrupulous gods.  
  
They were kept so unbelievably busy that occasionally they just had to force themselves to take afew days off to recharge and relax.  
  
So Hercules had gone to visit his mother Alcmene and his stepfather Jason in Corinth where Hercules's younger brother Iphicles was king.  
  
Iolaus had gone to visit with his brother Markos in their hometown of Thebes. However, sitting around Markos's tavern and wandering aimlessly around Thebes was too prosaic for Iolaus and he was soon bored. He'd decided to visit an old flame, Evanthea, who lived in nearby Parthea.  
  
The only thing Iolaus liked better than girls was action.  
  
As he entered the village the rain began. Ducking into the tavern, Iolaus was surprised to find it deserted. Plates of food sat half-eaten on several tables and as he noted some over-turned chairs, Iolaus tensed. Obviously, something had recently happened in here.  
  
Iolaus was an experienced warrior with all the requisite inborn instincts. As his sharp eyes adjusted to the gloom, his invaluable sixth sense kicked into gear.  
  
When a sword-wielding thug jumped over the counter he was prepared.  
  
Iolaus had incredible reflexes and the agility and coördination of a natural athlete. He jumped as the man swung his sword, unleashing a high-flying, powerful windmill kick that knocked the weapon from the man's grasp.  
  
Iolaus hit him solidly in the breadbasket, doubling him over, and then rammed his elbow down on the man's vulnerable neck. He dropped insensible at Iolaus's feet.  
  
Two others rushed out of the shadows. Picking up a chair, Iolaus smashed it over one of the men and, as he crumpled to the floor in a mess, ducked beneath the club swing of the other.  
  
From his knees, Iolaus rammed the palms of his hands hard into the man's abdomen in a rapid one-two sequence. As the thug recoiled, Iolaus reached up and grabbed him around the neck, turned and swung him over his shoulder in a blink of an eye.  
  
The enemy landed on the floor with a resounding thud and Iolaus administered the coup de grâce; a solid jab to the chin that put his lights out emphatically.  
  
Iolaus rose to his feet in satisfaction and consternation as he surveyed the manifestations of his labour. He shook his head, " What's going on here? "  
  
From outside he heard a muffled cry and, without hesitation, raced to investigate.  
  
Not far away Iolaus saw four horsemen struggling with several individuals in the pelting rain. As he ran towards the dispute, Iolaus suddenly remembered Markos telling him that there might be slavers operating in this vicinity.  
  
His eyes flashed with anger and hatred. He loathed slavery and all persons involved in the detestable practice.  
  
Iolaus picked up a small barrell and smashed it against the nearest horseman. He let go of the girl he was trying to drag away and moved to draw his sword but he didn't even get it out of the scabbard.  
  
Iolaus, a master in improvisational combat, used the village well as a launching pad to spring into the air and ram his opponent from his horse with a devastating two-footed kick.  
  
He landed nimbly on his feet in the mud directly beside his fallen foe and spun to engage the others.  
  
His precipitous arrival had caught the other raiders' attention by then. They released their intended victims who ran for cover while Iolaus moved quickly to avoid a blow from a heavy double-edged battle-axe.  
  
Iolaus drew his sword and countered with a mighty two-handed stroke that sliced the handle of the axe in two.  
  
An arrow meant for him zinged past Iolaus's left ear and struck the man he was fighting in the thigh. With a scream of agony he fell to the ground where Iolaus hit him over the head with the hilt of his sword to put him out of his misery.  
  
He whirled to confront the archer but had to throw himself quickly out of harm's way as a serrated javelin soared towards him. It thudded into the muddy ground where the imprints of his boots were still visible but Iolaus himself was rolling to his feet several feet away, already in attack mode.  
  
Iolaus tossed a stone just as the archer fired that hit his horse smartly on the rump. The big animal reared in fright while Iolaus twirled his sword in front of him with such incredible speed and dexterity that it actually hummed.  
  
The arrow was sliced into several harmless fragments by Iolaus's whirlwind swordsmanship as the archer tumbled backwards from his horse and landed with a groan in the quagmyre. He didn't so much as twitch so Iolaus turned his sights on the last culprit.  
  
The one remaining outlaw was Decius, Euphrastus's lieutenant. It was he who'd pitched the vicious serrated spear at Iolaus earlier. He took a look at his fallen comrades and decided not to challenge Iolaus further.  
  
With a scowl Decius yelled at Iolaus who was glaring at him menacingly, " This isn't over yet, stranger! Euphrastus will teach you to mind your own business."  
  
Iolaus laughed scornfully, " Tell Euphrastus to stay in Thessala with the rest of you scum if he knows what's good for him. He's fair game if he comes anywhere near here and I'm always ready for a good fight! ", Iolaus said in a bold tone that conveyed his determination implicitly.  
  
Decius noted Iolaus's defiant stance and the fire in his eyes. He was certainly not just any simple local peasant.  
  
Judging by the way he'd brandished his sword with such expertise earlier Decius reckoned he was obviously an accomplished swordsman.  
  
Decius's natural first suspect was Hercules because he knew this was home turf for the legend.  
  
Euphrastus's lieutenant shook his head. Hercules was much bigger than this cocky little hellion. Didn't Hercules's have a partner?  
  
As Decius looked at Iolaus more closely he asked, " So what's the hero of Thebes doing out in the boonies? "  
  
He certainly fit the description. Small, blonde, amazingly quick and a demon in battle.  
  
Iolaus nodded towards the motionless bodies lying in the mud and looked down the blade of his sword at Decius, cobalt eyes flaming with malice, " Evidently, teaching your pals to eat dirt! Care to join them? ", taking several steps towards the loquacious horseman.  
  
Decius nodded as he turned and galloped away into the mists. Fearless and sarcastic. He was definitely Hercules's ally.  
  
Euphrastus was going to be interested in this news.  
  
Iolaus relaxed and slipped his sword into his scabbard.  
  
Evanthea skipped out into the rain and threw a blanket over his shoulders, " Iolaus, I've never been happier to see you! "  
  
Iolaus looked into the girl's dancing blue eyes and smiled, " It's good to see you too, Evanthea. ", he said as they hurried towards her home.  
  
Yasserupas was a forbidding pile of cold stone that was situated in a fold of the Thermopolyan Mountains and was almost hidden by the surrounding forests and jutting mountainsides on either side of it.  
  
Behind its rugged walls were several ramshackle shacks, a half dozen stone buildings and a castle. The castle was Euphrastus's headquarters.  
  
Euphrastus was a tall man with a dark beard, a crooked nose that had been broken many times, the small penetrating pale green eyes of a natural killer and an unkempt mass of long fiery red hair.  
  
He had two equally obsessive passions.  
  
Blood and Money.  
  
He used one to get the other.  
  
Euphrastus was heartless, ruthless, avaricious and unpredictable. He bought and sold men like any other commodity. Some he forced to fight in his gladiatorial games if they were good enough. Some even became members of his gang.  
  
Euphrastus even hired out carefully chosen minions to anybody who could pay the price for a first-rate assassin, thief, spy or mercenary.  
  
He made alot of money from his immoral trade and was always eager to make more. He had a large following because he was smart, shrewd and successful. To maintain his leadership, he kept close tabs on his men and rewarded them well at propitious times.  
  
When Decius told Euphrastus about his aborted raid on Parthea the bandit chief was at first outraged. But Euphrastus's right-hand man had a plan to turn that setback into sure-fire profit.  
  
After describing much of the fight in Parthea, Decius said enthusiastically, " I've seen alot of good fighters, Euphrastus, but this guy is by far the best yet. He's as good with his bare hands as he is with a weapon. It's no wonder Hercules chose him as his partner. "  
  
Euphrastus nodded thoughtfully, " Iolaus of Thebes was well-known even before Hercules hooked up with him, Decius. I had a run-in with him years ago when I was known by another name. He was good then. It's not surprising that he's even better now. "  
  
Decius saw the flames of greed and revenge spring into Euphrastus's eyes, " Having Hercules himself participate in my games may be out of the question but forcing his celebrated ally to coöperate might be do-able."  
  
Euphrastus shook his head as another idea occurred to him, " Better still. If we take Iolaus, Hercules will undoubtedly follow. Then if we kill Hercules, Hera will grant me just about anything I desire and we'll still have Iolaus for the games. "  
  
He smiled cruelly at Decius, " Or for other purposes. Do you know how much King Metassis of Crete would pay to have a demon warrior like Iolaus as one of his elite bodyguards? My good and generous friend Prince Indomio of Sarnia is always looking for men for his galleons too. "  
  
Decius smirked at the prospects, " Queen Kaliope of Nubia loves guys like Iolaus. She'd pay a king's ransom for a diversion with his stamina. " He and Euphrastus laughed loudly. Euphrastus clapped Decius on the shoulder, " It's a win-win- win opportunity! Let's do it! "  
  
Once the heavy rain stopped Iolaus and Evanthea took a romantic stroll down by the lake.  
  
Evanthea had long curly auburn hair, an angelic face and soft blue eyes. Iolaus found the cares of the tumultuous life he lead slowly melt away as he ambled hand- in-hand with such an enchanting woman.  
  
It was rare that he got to enjoy any peace and quiet let alone the company of a charming member of the gentler sex.  
  
Iolaus was a sentimental person at heart and an incurable idealist. Love and romance perfectly counter-balanced war and hate.  
  
He picked a pretty blue flower and tenderly offered it to Evanthea, " From this day on, I shall call these flowers 'Evanthea' because they're the same colour as your eyes."  
  
Evanthea threw her arms around his neck and they kissed.  
  
Iolaus was very popular not only with the women in Thebes but with girls for miles around. It was only natural that they should be attracted by his shy charm, chivalrous nature and kindness. The fact that he was also courageous, cute and charismatic was icing on the cake.  
  
If not for his hectic lifestyle one of the beguiling members of the fairer sex undoubtedly would've captured Iolaus's heart long ago.  
  
Actually Iolaus had lost his heart to the love of his life.  
  
Niobe, Queen of Attica.  
  
However she was the wife of his cousin Orestes.  
  
Not only did Iolaus feel unworthy of loving a queen but his morality wouldn't let him betray his cousin.  
  
So, although it had been the most difficult choice he'd ever had to make in his life, Iolaus had left Niobe.  
  
Not once but twice.  
  
The second parting was even more heart-wrenching coming, as it did, hard on the heels of his cousin's tragic assassination.  
  
Iolaus still loved Niobe dearly but he hoped that, with time and the balm of gentle company like Evanthea, he would learn to live with his heartbreak.  
  
Unlike Hercules, who had married and had a family while never deviating from his mission in life, Iolaus knew himself all too well. If he ever lost his heart to another, his days of adventure would be over. There was no way he could see himself leaving a wife for any reason.  
  
Perhaps it was because that was exactly what his father had done.  
  
Perhaps it was because Iolaus knew, as big as his heart was, that it couldn't be in two places at the same time.  
  
Iolaus and Evanthea spent the entire afternoon together laughing and flirting in the fragrant rolling meadows.  
  
They found a secluded spot on the mountainside that overlooked Parthea, spread a blanket and picnicked beneath the warm summer sun.  
  
When their appetites were satisfied the two lovers did what lovers do best in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.  
  
Afterwards, Iolaus held Evanthea lovingly as they watched the sun turn the Verdolin forest crimson, then scarlet and finally blood-red, " Wow, what a performance! ", he whispered, awestruck.  
  
Evanthea looked up at him, smiling, " Braggart!", she said with a wicked sparkle in her eye.  
  
Iolaus blushed and laughed, " I meant the sunset, you little pixie! ", he said, kissing her on the brow affectionately.  
  
Afew minutes later they were walking hand-in-hand down the road leading into Parthea when Iolaus suddenly stopped, frowning. His keen senses had detected a faint vibration under-foot and now his sixth sense was beginning to react too. But to what?  
  
He turned and looked into the distance behind them. The look in his eyes was one of anxious caution.  
  
Evanthea opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but he put a finger to his lips as he cocked his head, listening intently for whatever had aroused his instincts.  
  
Evanthea neither saw nor heard anything but his behaviour alarmed her.  
  
Iolaus dropped flat on the ground and put his ear against the earth. He was on his feet again so quickly that Evanthea knew there had to be trouble nearby.  
  
Iolaus looked at Evanthea with urgent concern on his face, " Are there any caves around here, Evanthea?"  
  
She nodded affirmatively as Iolaus began to push her towards Parthea, " Great! Listen to me, there isn't much time. Round up your people and go to those caves, okay? I'll find some way to slow them down but I may not be able to hold them off for long. You've got to evacuate the village! "  
  
As he spoke Iolaus was searching avidly for something he could use as a weapon. His sword was back in Evanthea's house in the village and all he had for defence was a simple dagger.  
  
Evanthea was a smart woman and, though he hadn't said who 'them' was, she made a very good guess, " It's those slavers again, isn't it?", she asked fearfully.  
  
Iolaus looked at her and it was obvious from the worry in his eyes that that was who he suspected too, " I'm not sure but there are alot of them. "  
  
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked with deep seriousness into her eyes, " Evanthea, you must get your people to safety. I'll do my best to give you as much time as I can but you must hurry! "  
  
He kissed her tenderly on the cheek and then bolted down the road away from Parthea.  
  
Evanthea called after him, " Be careful, Iolaus. ", and then ran as fast as her legs would carry her to Parthea.  
  
Just a mile outside of Parthea was a broad, deep, swiftly running river. It was spanned by a narrow wooden bridge. Afew yards before it on the Parthea side stood a tall sturdy old tree.  
  
By the time Iolaus reached the tree, he could clearly hear the thunder of a large group of horsemen approaching rapidly from the opposite direction.  
  
One of the old tree's gnarled branches extended over the road providing a perfect place for an ambush.  
  
Earlier in the day, when he and Evanthea had passed under the same tree, Iolaus had casually noted it. He was so accustomed to spontaneous adventure and so naturally perceptive that he noticed many things that seemed innocuous to others.  
  
He jumped straight up and quickly hoisted himself into the comforting shadows of the tree's ample foliage. The branch was thick and strong as he craned stealthily to catch a glimpse of the imminent threat. As he'd told Evanthea, there were indeed alot of them.  
  
Iolaus was a born optimist. He never gave up even when he knew, as he certainly did now, that the odds were not in his favour. With a deep sigh of resignation he crouched on the bough and readied himself for business.  
  
The people of Parthea were depending on him and he wouldn't disappoint them.  
  
The large party of slavers had to slow down to cross the narrow footbridge because the river was too wide and fast to ford.  
  
As the first rider passed beneath him, Iolaus swung from the branch, kicked the rider flying from his horse, slipped into the saddle and pulled hard on the reins.  
  
The horse reared, neighing and flailing its hooves in consternation.  
  
Iolaus tumbled out of the saddle as the two riders following the first were forced to stop in order to avoid the panicked horse.  
  
He landed lightly on his feet in the shadows, crept boldly forwards and tossed a stone at the nearest horse.  
  
It smacked the beast smartly in the rump and it abruptly reared too, sending its rider unexpectedly to the ground with a frenzied yell.  
  
Iolaus's diversion had caused a serious traffic jam on the bridge. Some horses became so disturbed by the distressed neighing of the others that many of the slavers had difficulty keeping control.  
  
Meanwhile Iolaus had rolled under the flying hooves of both horses and as he came to his feet beside the third rider, his dagger sliced through the cinch-strap of the saddle.  
  
The slaver saw Iolaus backing away from him and reached for his sword.  
  
As he moved, his saddle slipped and he fell awkwardly in the dirt.  
  
Iolaus had already darted away from that area by then. As the jam on the bridge cleared, more riders thundered after him.  
  
Without missing a step, Iolaus snatched the spear from the first fallen rider as he ran past.  
  
Once clear of the horses, he wheeled to confront the fresh onslaught.  
  
On the far side of the river Decius and Euphrastus had an excellent vantage point as Iolaus twirled the spear deftly in his hands.  
  
Decius nodded towards him, " Just as I told you. A natural warrior! "  
  
Euphrastus shook his head, " That may be so but he's about to become the doom of his buddy, Hercules, and my ticket to paradise! ", he said with cold certainty.  
  
In harmony with his excellent agility and coördination, Iolaus's adroit use of his purloined spear soon spilled three more of Euphrastus's men onto the unforgiving road.  
  
He was taking aim at a fourth rider when one of the fallen ones got to his feet and twirled a bola over his head.  
  
Iolaus didn't see it because he was busy avoiding the wild swing of another slaver's sword.  
  
He'd just hurled his spear at the sword swinging horseman when the bola wound itself tightly around his legs and sent him crashing to the ground.  
  
As Iolaus rolled away from the horse's dangerous hooves, the slaver thudded lifelessly to the ground with the spear impaled solidly in his chest.  
  
Iolaus was already slicing through the bola's constricting bonds by then fully aware that he was being surrounded by more enemies even as he did so.  
  
His keen knife severed the last binding and he looked up at the imposing ring of horsemen that encircled him, fierce defiance flaring in his eyes.  
  
In a defensive crouch, he slowly moved to the centre of the trap. His raised dagger and body language projected his determination and spirit implicitly.  
  
Men on foot edged between the horses and crept cautiously along the fringe of the circle until they too surrounded him.  
  
As Iolaus glared unwaveringly at the forces pitted against him, one of the horsemen leaned forward, " This can be easy or it can be hard. It's your choice, Iolaus. ", he said bluntly.  
  
Iolaus knew evil when he saw it and the coldness in this man's eyes alarmed even his dauntless heart. He realised that this had to be Euphrastus in person. He wasn't impressed.  
  
Iolaus was a fighter gifted with lightning reflexes and agility that had even out-foxed Hercules.  
  
He answered Euphrastus by flinging his knife at the slave-master and capitalising on the subsequent distraction his boldness created.  
  
In a blinding flurry of motion he kicked and hit his way past two of the unmounted enemy.  
  
Even as swords and spears came to bear on him, he slipped his lissome body between two of the great horses and took to his heels.  
  
Euphrastus had easily avoided Iolaus's dagger but the very attempt on his life enfuriated him. As Iolaus tore across the footbridge with pursuit hot on his tail, Euphrastus grinned maliciously, " You'll pay for that, Iolaus! Big time! "  
  
Iolaus ran mid-way up a slope before turning unexpectedly to face his pursuers. He had to give Evanthea more time to get her people to safety.  
  
Leaping onto a medium-sized boulder, Iolaus sprang vigorously at the closest rider. They both landed hard on the uneven grassy ground. Iolaus picked up one of the plentiful rocks that were strewn among the long grasses and hit his opponent.  
  
As he got to his feet, he picked up the slaver's sword.  
  
In the gloom of late dusk it was a strenuous job keeping so many enemies at bay and Iolaus realised he wouldn't be able to sustain it much longer. However, the alternative didn't appeal to him.  
  
So, he stood his ground and kept his sword raised in stubborn resistance.  
  
Some of the raiders lit torches and in their flickering light Iolaus saw a solid wall of mounted and footed enemies bristling with lethal steel all pointed at him.  
  
Euphrastus spurred his horse forward and his men followed in a mass attack Iolaus had no hope of repelling. Yet even against such an overwhelming assault Iolaus's resolve never wavered. He swung his sword and used his feet to ward off the first few who reached him but then somebody hit him hard from behind.  
  
As he fell to his knees dazed, his sword was kicked from his grasp, rendering him defenceless.  
  
Seemingly.  
  
He still wasn't willing to give up and fought his way back to his feet using his bare-hands and his fast, punishing feet.  
  
It was Euphrastus himself who finally ended Iolaus's struggle.  
  
On his right hand Euphrastus wore a silver gauntlet studded with brass knuckles. While Iolaus was engaged with one of his minions, Euphrastus rode up behind him, reached down and grasped a fistful of Iolaus's hair in his left hand. Before Iolaus could liberate himself, Euphrastus rammed his gauntlet ruthlessly into his unprotected kidney area. The slave-king smiled with sadistic pleasure at the audible crack of Iolaus's rib and his howl of pain.  
  
Nearly paralysed by the agony in his back, Iolaus sank to the ground. As he gasped on his knees, one arm tucked protectively against his injured side while the other supported him from total collapse, his face contorted with pain and chagrin.  
  
He saw the smug expression on Euphrastus's brutish face, though, and, despite the pain, tried to stand.  
  
The slaver he'd been fighting, however, hit him between the shoulder-blades with the hilt of a sword.  
  
The blow drove Iolaus face-first into the long grass, stunned. His left fist tore at the grass as he writhed painfully on the ground, fighting to summon strength out of his agony. His eyes closed against an upwelling of shame and frustration as he realised he was beaten.  
  
Atleast for now.  
  
Rough hands grabbed his arms and dragged him to his feet. As Iolaus swayed, fighting to retain his consciousness, a heavy iron collar was clamped around his neck and a set of matching shackles were fitted to his wrists and ankles.  
  
Euphrastus grabbed a length of chain which was fastened to Iolaus's collar and pulled on it brutally.  
  
Iolaus was abruptly jerked forward and fell on his knees in front of the slave king.  
  
As he glared up at him with unmitigated contempt, Euphrastus tapped the knife Iolaus had thrown at him against his gauntlet, " If you ever try anything like that again, you'll get more than a broken rib in return. ", he warned.  
  
Iolaus got to his feet slowly and his fiery eyes matched his words, " Next time I won't miss! ", he promised fearlessly.  
  
Euphrastus smiled mirthlessly, " Ah, yes, I've heard that you're very spirited! Precious little good it'll do you now. I'll crush it just like I've done to a thousand other guys! "  
  
Decius laughed derisively, " Bold talk coming from a man in chains! " Iolaus spared Decius a whithering glance and recognised him from the skirmish in Parthea. Sometimes it just didn't pay to be merciful.  
  
Euphrastus raised his gauntleted hand and a cart carrying an iron cage rumbled into view. Decius dismounted and took the chain from Euphrastus's hand. As the door of the cage was opened, Decius pulled on the chain.  
  
Iolaus not only resisted but he grabbed the chain in his manacled hands and pulled it himself. Decius was sent sprawling in the grass as several slavers seized Iolaus, " Don't under-estimate me!", he advised Decius grimly as Euphrastus's humiliated lieutenant stood up.  
  
Euphrastus's patience snapped and he jumped off his horse. He glowered at Iolaus, trying to intimidate him, " Sooner or later, Iolaus, you will do what I want or suffer the consequences. ", he remarked sternly.  
  
" In your dreams! ", Iolaus responded truculently. His unquakable defiance irked Euphrastus, " I've broken bigger, stronger, tougher men than you, friend. ", he boasted proudly.  
  
Iolaus's eyes flared with anger, " Bigger, stronger, tougher men than you have tried, friend, and failed! "  
  
Euphrastus angrily hit him across the face with the back of his gauntlet. Iolaus staggered as the studs from Euphrastus's gauntlet drew blood but he lost none of his nerve, " I promise you'll regret this day! ", he vowed vehemently, cobalt eyes burning with naked antipathy.  
  
Decius and some others roughly dragged Iolaus over to the cage and threw him inside.  
  
Grimacing, Iolaus slowly sat up. As he gingerly investigated the stinging abrasions above and the gouges on his cheek just below his watery right eye, the cart lurched forward. Iolaus took a deep, painful breath. He knew where he was being taken and why.  
  
When no arrows had been used to deter him, Iolaus had unhappily realised that it was he and not Parthea that was the slavers' objective!  
  
If Euphrastus was deranged enough to even imagine that he'd participate in his sick gladiator games, he was in for a very rude surprise!  
  
Iolaus closed his eyes as the cart hit a rut and jolted his injured back. This was going to be a nasty experience all round.  
  
He listened to the clinking of his chains and the creaking of the cart until his pain and humiliation ebbed away.  
  
They were replaced by worry. Not for himself but for Hercules.  
  
Iolaus had been used enough times in the past to lure Hercules into danger that he could now usually sense when such a scheme was afoot. This episode smelled strongly of just that sort of motivation.  
  
He knew that tomorrow, when he didn't show up at the crossroads, his ally would come looking for him. Now that he was Euphrastus's prisoner there was nothing Iolaus could do to warn his partner. He could help him, though, by becoming Euphrastus's worst nightmare. Iolaus hoped that by the time Hercules reached Yasserupas, Euphrastus would be very sorry he'd ever had this bad idea.  
  
Then an image of Evanthea flitted through his consciousness and Iolaus sighed. This was definitely not what he'd planned to be doing on the last night of his vacation.  
  
Atleast Parthea was safe.  
  
For now.  
  
It was just another bone to pick with Euphrastus when the time came.  
  
Iolaus's eyes flashed fiercely at the very thought of that loathesome name and he frowned. He had the strangest feeling that he'd met Euphrastus before though he knew he hadn't until tonight. All the same, there was something oddly perplexing about that creep.  
  
Iolaus tested the bars next to where he sat just out of curiosity. Even if they hadn't been solid, there was no way he could've fled in these shackles and evaded all these slavers too. However, it was his nature to never give up.  
  
Ever.  
  
Euphrastus would rue this day. No matter what happened, Iolaus would make sure he kept that promise! He put the two hours of rough travel to good use by meditating.  
  
Once inside the oppressive walls of Yasserupas, Euphrastus lined his men up as if they were a troop of militia. As he droned on about his grand agenda, Iolaus studied his surroundings.  
  
There was alot of open space inside the confines of Yasserupas. Plenty of room for mock military drills like this one. Nothing really struck Iolaus as particularly interesting until he noticed the dilapitated thatched huts across the square.  
  
In the frail torch light his sharp eyes detected the haggard faces and distraught eyes of numerous caged persons. These were the poor souls Euphrastus sold into slavery.  
  
Iolaus looked from that deplorable sight and glared hatefully at the strutting inhuman spectre responsible for such an outrage.  
  
Then Decius and several other slavers loomed out of the darkness. Decius unlocked the cage and reached for the collar chain but Iolaus was far too quick. He already had the chain wrapped around his fist. Euphrastus's lieutenant never knew what hit him as he went flying backwards into the dust propelled by all the force of Iolaus's pent-up rage and frustration.  
  
Then, grabbing the cage door, Iolaus slammed it against two other slavers as he jumped out of the cage.  
  
He ducked beneath the sword swipe of another slaver and lashed out with the chain as he sprang to his feet again. The chain wrapped itself around the swordsman arm and Iolaus pulled on it, hard! The slaver was dragged towards him involuntarily and Iolaus met him with a punishing kick.  
  
However, because of his fetters, he wasn't able to land on his feet in his usual custom. As the sword-swinging slaver hit the ground, so did he.  
  
The impact jolted his back and winded him slightly. He climbed to his feet slowly, gasping, as Euphrastus walked up to him. Iolaus straightened up painfully to face his antagonist. He expected fire and brimstone but the slave-king surprised him.  
  
Euphrastus walked around Iolaus thoughtfully, examining him from every perspective. Then he looked at him and smiled, " I am impressed, Iolaus. You're not very big but I'd bet on you in any fight. You've got the moves and the guts. If you could be trained to over-power your conscience and use your emotions more aggressively, you'd be incredible. "  
  
Euphrastus's pale eyes were chaotic pools of psychotic dementia that filled Iolaus with intense unease.  
  
" You have what it takes to be an assassin beyond compare. Join us! ", he bellowed fervently.  
  
While the very idea greatly repulsed him, Iolaus kept his composure. Though he was very disturbed by Euphrastus's rantings, he thought that maybe he could use innuendo to his advantage.  
  
There was no doubt that Euphrastus was pleased by the fake tempted expression on Iolaus's face, " I'll take that as affirmative. "  
  
Decius was just staggering over to Euphrastus and cried, " What are you doing? What happened to our other plans?"  
  
The words were barely out of his mouth when Euphrastus shocked everybody by lashing out at his lieutenant. With gruesome expertise he slit Decius's throat and turned laughing towards Iolaus as the man fell writhing in the dirt, " Don't mind him, he always did have a big mouth. "  
  
Euphrastus shouted at his lackies, " Don't just stand there. Take those shackles off of my new lieutenant! "  
  
Iolaus's eyes couldn't possibly have gotten any wider as he stood frozen in shock at this unforeseen development.  
  
Euphrastus threw a fraternal arm around his shoulders, " This could be the beginning of a wonderful partnership, partner! "  
  
Iolaus looked at the lifeless body of Decius and shuddered as Euphrastus steered him towards his castle. How had this happened?  
  
The grand hall of the castle was richly appointed but very ecletic. Euphrastus's throne was an intricately carved camphorwood masterpiece draped in filthy rags and animal skins. As Euphrastus slumped in his chair, Iolaus was still in a state of shock at this bizarre twist.  
  
He looked around the room at its crazy mix of garish tapestries, tacky bric- a-brac and priceless treasures. Dangling from the overhead beams were countless human skulls with precious gems set in their eye-sockets.  
  
Iolaus looked at Euphrastus and saw that the slave-master had been watching him.  
  
He was about to say something disarming when his sixth sense preceded the arrival of about two dozen slavers.  
  
Iolaus noted they positioned themselves in two rows in the centre of the large room. He also saw that they were armed with all manner of weaponry.  
  
Iolaus looked at Euphrastus suspiciously. He laughed coldly, " To become my worthy right-hand man, you must pass the test to earn the respect of the men you will lead. "  
  
As Iolaus realised what that test meant, the colour drained from his face and Euphrastus laughed louder, "There's no turning back now, Iolaus. If you refuse to endure my little rite of passage, you will be killed right where you stand. " Euphrastus didn't need to mention that it was likely he would die if he did undertake the challenge.  
  
Iolaus eyed the group of slavers and asked, " Unarmed? "  
  
Euphrastus nodded, " Against two dozen armed men. Any man who can survive such odds is a man worthy of respect. "  
  
Iolaus remarked harshly, " Yeah, I saw how much respect you accorded Decius when you cut his throat ten minutes ago! "  
  
Euphrastus shrugged, " He lost my respect when I gained respect for you, my demon warrior!"  
  
Euphrastus stood up and approached him, " Take his place, Iolaus. Stand at my side and I will make you a king. "  
  
Euphrastus brandished Iolaus's dagger in his left hand ominously, " Refuse and you will die by your own weapon. Unsung. Unlamented. Just another loser in the Death Games. "  
  
Iolaus shook his head at Euphrastus, " How do you sleep at night? ", he wondered contemptuously.  
  
The slave-king's smile was demented, " I drink human blood. It's a wonderful narcotic." He howled with laughter at Iolaus's undisguised revulsion.  
  
Turning from Euphrastus in disgust, Iolaus began to walk towards the group of slavers.  
  
He had no intention of joining that deranged lunatic or subjecting himself to his barbaric test either.  
  
All the time he and Euphrastus had been talking Iolaus had been studying the chamber and every possible avenue of escape from it.  
  
Iolaus halted afew feet away from the motley crew. He did several complex Tai Chi exercises that mesmerised them. So when he squatted and pulled the carpet out from under their feet, they were caught totally offguard because of his previous actions.  
  
As bodies flew in all directions, Iolaus scrambled to his feet and ran. Euphrastus threw the dagger but Iolaus dove through an open doorway as it clunked into the door-jamb.  
  
Iolaus found himself in a dark corridor. He heard running footsteps coming closer and Euphrastus screaming for more men.  
  
He started down the hall but guards suddenly materialised at the far end. He dashed up a flight of stairs instead.  
  
Turning the corner, Iolaus came face to face with two sentries. There were footsteps coming up the stairs behind him too.  
  
He backed quickly away from the stairs and the sentries followed. When they were standing in front of the steps, Iolaus dropped his passive routine.  
  
With a hearty yell, he launched himself into the air. Just as several slavers appeared on the last flight of steps, Iolaus's dynamite flying feet propelled the two sentries cascading down on top of them. He didn't stick around to admire the heap of bodies on the landing.  
  
At the end of the corridor, Iolaus found an open window. He looked outside cautiously, barely able to discern what lay below.  
  
An arrow ricocheted off the sill next to his hand and he looked back down the corridor to see an angry knot of slavers advancing upon him.  
  
Time to fly this insane asylum.  
  
Iolaus landed on his feet though it hurt like hell. He scrambled into the shadows as arrows plunked into the ground all around him. Leaning against the castle wall, Iolaus began to edge his way carefully out into the night.  
  
The castle was built right into the mountain. Quickly Iolaus reversed his course, realising he'd have to go around. He crouched behind some crates and watched the shadows of running men flit across the compound several yards away. The compound was well lit with torches and several large bonfires. It didn't seem like a good idea to venture in that direction so he made his way carefully across to some stone barracks.  
  
Then Iolaus noticed a water-tower. It stood on four wooden pylons several hundred yards in front of the gate. The inklings of a plan started to form in his mind.  
  
He needed a horse... and somethingreally heavy...  
  
As he was creeping towards the stables, he passed the slave hovels. Iolaus put a finger to his lips when he saw several of the captives staring at him. There was a moment or two of tense awkwardness when he wasn't certain if they'd give him away or not as several slavers scurried past. He was greatly relieved by their silence.  
  
Iolaus considered telling them that he wasn't going to leave without them but he didn't want to raise their hopes.  
  
A little girl reached out her tiny hand and touched his arm. With infinite tenderness, Iolaus cupped the child's hand in his own strong hands and smiled at her cherubic face. He looked at all the other faces and hoped that they could somehow sense he was on their side. The little girl smiled as Iolaus kissed her hand and then moved away.  
  
The child's mother was Iolaus's own cousin Sylvana but he hadn't recognised her in the darkness. She embraced her daughter as she watched him vanish into the gloom. She had recognised him but hadn't made herself known to him out of shame.  
  
Sylvana had seen, as they all had, Iolaus's boisterous arrival earlier. He was unlike any other man the slavers had brought into Yasserupas. He'd always been a scrappy kid.  
  
The fire in his eyes a moment ago had thrilled Sylvana and bolstered her waning spirits. She sighed. If there was a way out of here, he'd find it. Sylvana knew Iolaus wouldn't leave alone either. He was far too conscientious.  
  
The stables were deserted because all the slavers were busy searching for him. The caged cart hadn't even been unhitched. Iolaus sabotaged the rear wheels as quickly and as quietly as he could. Then he opened the stable doors and hopped into the cart.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Iolaus flicked the reins and the horses bolted out of the barn. He guided them towards the water-tower as arrows began to thump and thwing all around him. At the last minute, Iolaus steered the horses away from the tower. The sharp turn created enough stress that one of the unpinned wheels slipped off the axle. The cart started to tip and he dropped the reins.  
  
As the heavy vehicle collided with one of the tower's pylons, Iolaus leapt. He hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet holding his arm against his aching side. Iolaus ran as fast as he could for cover as the tower began to collapse. Slavers who'd been rushing towards him saw the tower falling and quickly retreated.  
  
Iolaus raced back to the slave hovels and was kicking open their doors when the tower hit the gate.  
  
Water and wood flew in all directions, one of the hinges broke and a gap appeared between the wall and the gate.  
  
Iolaus picked up one of the iron bars from the demolished cage and implored Euphrastus's victims to hurry. While they scurried for the damaged gate, he covered their flight.  
  
Euphrastus watched furiously as the last slave vanished through the chink in the gate. By the time the wreckage from the water-tower was removed and the gate cleared enough for horses, those people would be long gone.  
  
His malevolent gaze fell upon Iolaus.  
  
Euphrastus unclipped a bull-whip from his belt and stealthily approached him.  
  
The water from the tower had turned the dirt in the compound to slippery mud. Iolaus found it difficult to keep his balance or to move with his usual agility. As a result he'd endured some telling blows from the slavers though he continued to fight as energetically as always.  
  
Abruptly Euphrastus's whip lashed out of the gloom and coiled itself around Iolaus's legs. As Euphrastus retracted the whip, Iolaus was sent spinning like a top. He tripped dizzily over some of the water-tower debris and fell awkwardly, striking his head against the unyielding wall of Euphrastus's castle.  
  
As Euphrastus stood glaring down at him, the strength left Iolaus's body and he collapsed. His last dim sight as his eyes fluttered and closed was of Euphrastus raising his fist in triumph.  
  
He yelled to his men as they gathered around Iolaus's unconscious form, " Take him to the Pit! "  
  
As his prize was dragged away to imprisonment, Euphrastus called after him, " Welcome to the Death Games, Iolaus! "  
  
Several of the escaped slaves waited in the bushes outside Yasserupas for Iolaus to join them. Sylvana was one of them.  
  
After ten minutes they heard somebody yelling though they couldn't make out what was being said.  
  
It was obvious by then that Iolaus wasn't coming.  
  
With tears in her eyes Sylvana turned her back on Yasserupas.  
  
The escapees split into five or six small groups incase the slavers tried to chase them down. They tramped through the forbidding forests as quickly as they could, always looking over their shoulders.  
  
It began to rain but the people kept moving.  
  
They hoped that the wet weather would discourage pursuit. Meantime they needed to put as much distance as possible between them and that possibility.  
  
Sylvana hugged her daughter tightly as she stumbled through the night. She was glad to be free but saddened that her cousin had been the only one not to make it out of Yasserupas tonight.A part of her wanted to go back and help him but common sense prevailed.  
  
She would have to help him some other way.  
  
Euphrastus had his men work all night to clear the gate. In the pouring rain of a grey dawn he dispatched a raiding party not to recapture the slaves Iolaus had freed but to burn Parthea to the ground as retribution.  
  
Alone in his castle Euphrastus knelt before an altar in a dark alcove. Oil lamps flickered and threw grotesque shadows as Euphrastus lifted a chalice full of blood to the gold peacock that sat on the altar, " Hera, Queen of Heaven, heed my plea. Your acurséd stepson will soon be within my range. I will kill him for you, mighty goddess, but you know how hard that will be without something special. Some device that will transcend his strength and give you your long over-due revenge. "  
  
Two silvery blue and red orbs materialised in front of Euphrastus as an ethereal yet authoritative feminine voice filled the shrine, " These are custom-made weapons, Euphrastus. Blue for that annoying mortal of his and red for my detestable stepson! All that is required for them to function is for you to call their names as you throw them. They will do the rest. " Euphrastus bowed his head in reverence, " I will not fail you, mistress. I swear it on my life! " Hera's contemptuous laughter shook the walls, " You had better not, mortal, or even in death you will not escape my wrath! "  
  
Hercules was just emerging from the gloom of the Verdolin forest when he smelled smoke. It had stopped raining but a thick mist hung in the valleys and hollows.  
  
As Hercules looked towards Parthea, he heard people screaming and saw the intermittent flicker of torches.  
  
He began to run.  
  
There was a large group of horsemen setting fire to the houses in the village as Hercules sped out of the fog.  
  
He reached up with his powerful arms and yanked the first rider abruptly right off his horse. Holding him kicking and shrieking above his head, Hercules threw him at a second rider. The pair fell to the ground as Hercules eluded a blow from a third slaver.  
  
As Hercules grabbed the sword-swinging slaver, he blocked the intended blow from yet a fourth rider. He lifted both men off their horses and propelled them towards one another. They collided with a sickening thump and tumbled to the ground in a senseless heap.Hercules was trying to pull a burning section of thatch off one of the huts when two more horses loomed out of the mists. Hercules hurled the fiery mass at the two charging slavers. The horses balked and skidded in the mud. One of the riders lost his balance and crashed to the ground awkwardly. The other kept control of his horse until Hercules grabbed his leg and pulled him down. Holding the man by the scruff of the neck, Hercules hit him just as several more riders arrived.  
  
Hercules dropped the unconscious man on the wet ground and shook his head, " This is what I get for crashing a party! ", he muttered as more riders galloped up behind him.  
  
There was a short awkward lull as the enemies sized each other up. Hercules moved slowly away from the hut he'd saved, into the middle of the sloppy street where he had room to manoeuvre.  
  
Suddenly an arrow soared through the ghostly air and another rider hit the ground.  
  
Hercules was quick to capitalise on the distraction. Dashing forward he ran between two of the riders. As he passed them, he reached up and pulled them forcefully from their mounts. The horses skittered nervously as the slavers fell at their hooves.  
  
Hercules skidded in the mud as he was turning back to face the trio of riders bearing down on him.  
  
Another arrow zipped through the air and another slaver thudded into the quagmyre. Hercules spared a split-second to try to locate the phantom archer but his visual range was limited by the dense fog.  
  
He picked up a heavy sack of grain and hoisted it over his head effortlessly. As the leading rider swung his sword, Hercules heaved the grain and threw himself blindly to his left to avoid the sword. The rider was knocked solidly from his horse but Hercules didn't see it. As he bumped against the thatched wall of the hut, it gave way. In a cloud of flying straw and flailing arms and legs, Hercules tumbled into the rickety abode.  
  
He was on his feet in no time and quickly jumped back out of the aperture he'd created. He was just in time to see another arrow jolt the last rider out of the saddle.  
  
Hercules looked around at the diverse collection of bodies distributed along the street and shook his head.  
  
Then his attentions turned to the mystery archer, " Hello? It's safe to come out now. "  
  
Instantly people began to cautiously edge towards him out of the swirling vapours.  
  
Hercules smiled as he recognised Evanthea walking towards him with a bow in her hand, " Iolaus has taught you well, Evanthea. You're a crackshot. ", he said with admiration.  
  
Evanthea's smile of greeting faded at the mention of Iolaus. Hercules noticed the despair on the young woman's face and frowned, " Tell me what happened, Evanthea? Where's Iolaus? "  
  
He hated it when his fears of foreboding were proved correct and it looked like he was right again.  
  
Before Evanthea could reply another woman tapped him on the arm. Hercules looked around to see a ragtag woman with tears rolling down her cheeks and a little girl clutched in her arms, " You're Hercules, right?"  
  
" Yes, I am. Can I help you? ", he replied smiling his friendliest smile.  
  
The girl nodded, " My name is Sylvana. I'm Iolaus's cousin. He needs help! "  
  
Hercules's frown returned, stronger than ever, as Evanthea began to explain, " Yesterday afternoon Iolaus drove off a party of Thessalian slavers. In the evening they came back in force. "  
  
Evanthea swallowed hard and averted her eyes from Hercules' as she went on, " Iolaus kept the slavers away from Parthea. He gave us time to evacuate the village. "  
  
Tears glistened in her eyes, " In the end, though, there were just too many of them. They've taken him to Yasserupas. "  
  
Evanthea took a deep breath, " This lady was a slave in Yasserupas, Hercules. Until last night, when Iolaus freed all of them. She was in the last of three groups who've arrived in Parthea so far. More are on their way. "  
  
Hercules' and Evanthea's eyes met and she shook her head sadly, " Iolaus didn't make it. "  
  
Hercules noticed the other former slaves and smiled to himself, " Well, Iolaus, you sure have been busy. "  
  
Sylvana grasped Hercules's arm boldly, " Hercules, you must help him! Iolaus sacrificed himself to cover our escape. That maniac Euphrastus will kill him if he hasn't already! "  
  
He looked at Sylvana earnestly and said, " I'm going to Yasserupas right now to give Iolaus a hand, Sylvana, although I think he's done a great job up 'til now on his own, don't you agree? "  
  
Sylvana nodded but it was Evanthea who was worried now, " Can I come with you, Hercules? You might need some help yourself. Euphrastus will be expecting you, you know? "  
  
Hercules studied Evanthea for a moment and then grinned, " My partner has excellent taste. You are as brave as you are beautiful. "  
  
As Evanthea blushed, Hercules continued, " Much as I admire your marksmanship and bravery, I must decline your generous offer. I need you to stay here and protect your people. I'm not certain Euphrastus is through with Parthea yet. "  
  
With those words he vanished into the mists.  
  
Evanthea looked at Sylvana and smiled, " So, Iolaus is your cousin, is he? ", she said amiably.  
  
Inside the mountain was an enormous cavern that served as Euphrastus's arena. In the centre of the arena was a round dias or stage where Euphrastus often exhibited the gladiators he wished to sell off. The arena floor was hard-packed clay and was surrounded by a twenty-foot high masonry wall.  
  
Where Euphrastus's castle was built into the mountain, there was a spacious gallery. This was where he entertained his perverted guests and prospective customers. The arena was lighted by massive torches, coal braziers on top of the high walls and a large hole at the peak of the cavern roof.  
  
Beneath the gallery was a prison where Euphrastus kept his fighters. It was also a torture chamber, a brothel, an armoury, a hospital and a morgue as the needs dictated.  
  
It was a place where no sun shone on the suffering, no breezes cleared the rancid air and no rain fell to wash away the blood, sweat or tears of its ill-fated inmates. In its dark, suffocating confines the moans and screams of hopelessness and agony never ceased.  
  
Such was Euphrastus's Pit.  
  
Iolaus was fettered and imprisoned in a small bell-shaped cage which was then hoisted well off of the ground just for good measure. He remained unconscious and oblivious to his fate for hours.  
  
Gradually, however, the dampness, stench and sound of torture roused him. It seemed to take forever for his vision to clear and the confounding cobwebs that clouded his mind lingered well after the thundering ache in his head subsided to a dull throb. He pushed himself to a sitting position very carefully, groaning at the stiffness and pain in his back. Slowly, as he began to recall what had happened to him, his eyes adjusted to the gloom and what they saw brought a demoralized scowl to his tired face. Iron bars, chains and shackles. Just for once it'd be nice to wake up to something aheckuva lot less depressing!  
  
The cruel crack of a cat-o-nine-tails and the subsequent howl it provoked snapped Iolaus vehemently out of his doldrums. Outrage and indignation pushed his own nagging maladies aside as he began a quick, professional inspection of the cage he was trapped in. Both the chain and pulley from which the cage dangled creaked with old age and rust... in fact, rust was everywhere.  
  
Afew yards away Iolaus noted the solid iron grillwork of the upper reaches of the Pit's main cell-block and nodded thoughtfully as a wild scheme took root in his fertile imagination.  
  
Standing up, Iolaus spread his feet as far apart as his shackles would allow. He leaned heavily to his right and then quickly did the same in the opposite direction. Keeping one eye on the grinding chain and the other on his objective, Iolaus continued his efforts and the cage began to swing from side-to-side.  
  
As he'd anticipated it would, his activity distracted the taskmaster from his savage endeavour... aswell as every other person in the Pit. The dungeon-keeper realised Iolaus's intention and immediately ordered his men to lower the cage.  
  
Iolaus felt it was now or never.  
  
With all his strength, he threw himself against the cage, ramming it hard against the iron lattice. The resounding clang of metal-on-metal exacerbated Iolaus's headache but the result proved worthwhile. The hefty collision broke a section of the rather decrepid cage significantly enough for the light, nimble escape-artist to squirm through. Seconds before the cage plummeted to the dungeon floor, sending Euphrastus's bewildered minions scrambling for safety, Iolaus climbed out onto the grill.  
  
He'd planned a prompt descent but the commotion he'd caused had attracted too much attention, forcing him to improvise.  
  
So instead of going down, he shimmied higher and found refuge atop one of the massive stone columns which supported an intricate system of rafters spanning the entire vast dungeon area.  
  
With or without shackles Iolaus was a born acrobat and quickly ventured out onto the network of thick timber beams. Far below a frantic swarm of slavers tried in vain to follow his movements in the voluminous shadows.  
  
Moving with unusual caution because of those same deep shadows and hindered by the limitations imposed by the shackles on his wrists and ankles, Iolaus navigated his way towards one of the dungeons' two exits.  
  
Several of the more enterprising slavers began to scale the cell-block bars to pursue him while the irritated taskmaster snatched up a crossbow and scoured the gloom eagerly for his target.  
  
Iolaus was feeling unaccountably dizzy and attributed it to the same blow that was responsible for his pervasive headache. He did his best to ignore both.  
  
He was about a hundred yards away from his destination when the beam he was inching his way across suddenly shuddered just enough to upset his shaky sense of balance. Iolaus lost his footing and would've plunged to his death if not for his superb reflexes.  
  
As he fell, Iolaus twisted and lunged desperately for a parallel timber. For several long seconds it was touch and go as he hung precariously from the beam but eventually, tenacity prevailed.  
  
However, even as Iolaus clambered back to safety, none the worse for his mishap, his struggle hadn't gone unnoticed. The taskmaster raised his crossbow and was about to fire when the door to the dungeon opened and Euphrastus marched imperiously into the Pit.  
  
The mercurial slave-king seized the taskmaster's arm and wrenched the crossbow from his grasp, yelling furiously, " Fools! I want him alive! "  
  
Euphrastus eyed the dark, obscure gloom that shrouded the cavernous regions of the dungeon's vaulted ceiling and shook his head in exasperation. There was only one guaranteed method of bringing a man as resourceful and rebellious as Iolaus down from that airy sanctuary sooner rather than later.  
  
Although Iolaus had freed all of his normal, everyday slaves Euphrastus wasn't as completely slaveless as his foxy nemesis probably assumed. The occupants of the Pit's prison cells were slaves that Euphrastus had chosen to either train or sell as gladiators. He had the taskmaster bring half a dozen of these potential fighters to him.  
  
In a voice that echoed loudly in the expansive dungeon, Euphrastus issued his ultimatum, " Iolaus! If you don't come down here in the next five minutes, these men will be put to death! If you still resist, more will die... until either you surrender or the blood of a hundred men are on your hands! "  
  
High above, Iolaus was barely listening but he thoroughly comprehended the dilemma. His attention had been diverted by the rusty flange of an inconsequential iron bolt protruding from the beam that'd saved his life.  
  
By the time Euphrastus had finished his speech, Iolaus had succeeded in using that nail to unlock the manacles on his wrists.  
  
Climbing to his feet with fresh resolve and a great deal more self- assurance now that his hands were free, Iolaus took a moment to dispose of his discarded manacles before heading back the way he'd come.  
  
The heavy iron cuffs clattered on the hard stone floor scant inches away from where Euphrastus stood, catching him so offguard that he jumped involuntarily.  
  
The startled slave-king looked from them up into the inpenetrable gloom overhead, his face flushed with rage and just a trace of begrudging admiration, " Your time is almost up, Iolaus. Which one shall I kill first? ", he yelled harshly, aiming the crossbow at the nervous group of prisoners. Iolaus was mid-way across one of the rafters almost directly above Euphrastus when his eye was caught by the rusted chain his cage had once dangled from. It was some five or six yards away - well within his reach - and instantly he began to wonder how best to use it to his advantage.  
  
As he paused, he felt the beam quake and looked around to see a pair of slavers creeping cautiously towards him from either direction.  
  
Although he wanted to stop Euphrastus from harming anybody, Iolaus wasn't quite ready to surrender.  
  
Atleast not unconditionally.  
  
He was still not feeling quite himself but as his pursuers closed in, the risk seemed justifiable. Trusting implicitly in his ingenuity and physical prowess rather than fate, Iolaus soared confidently through the cold, dark air like a golden eagle.  
  
He grasped both lengths of the chain and caught Euphrastus and all of his men completely by surprise as he swept down upon them like a cat pouncing upon a flock of pigeons.  
  
Several slavers were sent flying as Iolaus plowed into them feet-first, including the abhorrent taskmaster who'd instigated his ire in the first place.  
  
Unfortunately the demands made upon it by Iolaus proved too much for the old, rusted pulley.  
  
As he was swinging back for an encore Iolaus felt the chain go suddenly slack but still somehow, like a cat, managed to land on his feet.  
  
The minute he hit the ground, though, Iolaus stumbled, tripped up by the prohibitive shackles on his ankles. The momentum which seconds earlier had been such an advantage now sent him reeling helplessly. He collided awkwardly with the dungeon wall and finally came to an abrupt, unceremonious, painful halt.  
  
Badly shaken by his rather wild misadventure, Iolaus remained on his hands and knees, rallying his rattled faculties, until the scrape of heavy footsteps on all sides roused him.  
  
Resigned to a temporary setback, he slowly climbed to his feet and turned unhappily to face Euphrastus. Shrugging sheepishly he said half-heartedly, " Can't blame a guy for trying...! "  
  
Although he looked and sounded convincingly done-in, Euphrastus caught a tell-tale twinkle of defiance in his reluctant prisoner's azure eyes and knew it was all a deliberate put-on.  
  
The slave-king was annoyed beyond words by Iolaus's ceaseless resistance but he wouldn't have to tolerate his antics much longer. He'd received several offers from certain interested parties eager to acquire Iolaus for their own particular reasons.  
  
It was now just a matter of money.  
  
King Metassis of Crete seemed especially eager. He was an aggressive, highly competitive ruler who was also extremely possessive and status-conscious. He seemed determined to secure for his own devises the only warrior in the world known to be the ally of a god. Metassis had even sent his agent to Yasserupas to negotiate in person but it was still possible that one of the others might counter the Cretan king's bid... atleast that was what the greedy Euphrastus was hoping would transpire. Euphrastus stood glaring at him malevolently, " Now you know how I felt, Iolaus. Thanks to you I was locked away for five long, very unhappy years. Do you remember Draco, demon? "  
  
The expression on Iolaus's face changed from initial bewilderment to gradual enlightenment. He stared at Euphrastus in disbelief, " Braccus? I don't believe it! "  
  
Euphrastus snarled, " Oh, believe it, my friend!"  
  
Some years before, in a far away province, Iolaus had been helping the folks of Draco fortify their village.  
  
It was situated on the frontier of Baklava, a untamed territory much like Thessala was now.  
  
While he was there Euphrastus (then known as Braccus) and his band of outlaws raided the village. Iolaus's fierce resistance had inspired the villagers to drive off the bandits but still several women and children had been carried away.  
  
Undeterred, Iolaus had tracked the raiders to their hide-out on his own. The villagers, unaccustomed to such boldness, had not dared to take such a risk.  
  
Iolaus had utilised his ingenuity and audacity to outwit the outlaws, capture Euphrastus and free the hostages.  
  
Back in Draco, the people had wanted to hang Euphrastus but Iolaus had argued passionately against it. In deference to the invaluable service he'd rendered them, the villagers relented.  
  
Euphrastus had been imprisoned instead.  
  
That event had become the genesis of Iolaus's altruistic career.  
  
Iolaus glared at Euphrastus, " Aside from your name, you sure haven't changed much! You're still a cretin! This time I'll make sure they throw away the key! "  
  
Euphrastus was irritated by Iolaus's unrelenting defiance but he patted the orb in his robe pocket to assauge his displeasure, " You forget yourself, Iolaus. This time your life is in my hands! "  
  
He called two of his minions over and they each seized one of Iolaus's arms. Euphrastus turned to lead the way.  
  
Iolaus pretended to stumble. Using his captors' own grips on him as leverage, Iolaus hoisted himself effortlessly into the air, flipped over their shoulders, landed lightly behind them and wrenched himself free before anyone fully realised what was happening.  
  
As Euphrastus spun, Iolaus grabbed both slavers by the hair and rammed their heads together ruthlessly.  
  
Before they touched the ground Iolaus was flying through the air towards Euphrastus. He slammed the slave-king with both feet against the iron bars of the prison cell-block. Euphrastus collapsed as Iolaus landed awkwardly, gasping at the stabbing pain his jarring landing caused his injured back.  
  
Wasting no time, Iolaus scampered for the nearest door but came face-to- face with the taskmaster. Screaming in exasperation and anger, he tackled the sadistic slaver. They fell to the floor heavily. After a brief struggle Iolaus was pitched over the head of his opponent. He landed on his injured back with a moan of agony but rolled tenaciously to his feet.  
  
Iolaus decided - for one of the first times in his life - on flight rather than fight. Although hindered by his shackles, he still moved faster than anyone. He shuffled through a doorway and slammed the heavy iron door shut behind him.  
  
He found himself in a gloomy vestibule. He had a choice of a short corridor that ended in a thick iron-studded door or a set of stairs that lead who knew where.  
  
Iolaus felt a thump on the door he'd just closed and turned towards the stairs. Just as he was about to depart, he noticed some weapons and armour piled beside the steps.  
  
It took very little time for Iolaus to snap the chain between his ankles with two heavy-handed yet precise blows. The dangling chain remnants were no encumbrance as he dashed up the stairs eagerly.  
  
The door at the top was unlocked and Iolaus stepped through it cautiously.  
  
He found himself in a very dark place where the clinking of his shackles echoed oddly.  
  
With his pilfered sword raised in readiness Iolaus waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom.  
  
He heard the wind whistling in the upper reaches and shivered in the chill draft.  
  
Slowly his eyes discerned a faint structure ahead bathed in weak, filtered daylight.  
  
Moving stealthily Iolaus took several steps towards it before stopping.  
  
Now he could make out the high masonry wall that encircled him and, as he turned towards the gallery, Iolaus realised with a sickening, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach just where he stood.  
  
He lowered his sword and chided himself for falling into this trap with his eyes wide-open.  
  
Euphrastus's maniacal laughter echoed around the arena as the torches were lit. Iolaus contemplated throwing his sword at his twisted tormentor but elected to it.  
  
The door he'd come out of was slammed shut and Iolaus bolted for the one remaining opening in the unscalable wall; a gateway on the far side of the arena.  
  
Half-way there Iolaus skidded to a precipitous halt as a parade of Euphrastus's champions began to march into the arena. He watched as they followed the curve of the towering wall and soon encompassed the whole vast ring.  
  
A wicked cast-iron portcullis sealed off the gateway and Iolaus's last hope of escape evaporated.  
  
He angrily turned to Euphrastus and declared, " I will not fight! "  
  
Euphrastus laughed coldly, " Then you will die! This is a no-holds-barred fight to the death, demon! "  
  
The fighters who stood like statues against the wall slowly began to move inwards towards him. Iolaus turned in a tight circle, trying to see all of the encroaching threats at once.  
  
In the gallery Euphrastus slapped his customer on the back, " This is going to be spectacular, Uryon. It's too bad King Metassis couldn't be here."  
  
Hercules found the signs of a struggle near the foot-bridge and gazed towards the shrouded mountains very thoughtfully.  
  
Iolaus had definitely given those slavers the fight of their lives.  
  
Euphrastus had made a serious perhaps fatal mistake underestimating his ally. They, like so many before them, had paid dearly for that ignorance.  
  
Hercules smiled grimly, vividly imagining the fracas that his fiesty partner had engineered. When it came to fighting, Iolaus was always true to his nature.  
  
It was highly unlikely that his intrepid partner was taking well to captivity either.  
  
By now Hercules was certain that Euphrastus was realising just how troublesome Iolaus could be.  
  
Which was only natural because whether he found it, it found him or he caused it, trouble was Iolaus's middle name.  
  
Hercules was, as always, proud of his ally. His bravery had spared Parthea twice in the same day and atleast fifty people owed him their freedom.  
  
A man who could accomplish all that on his own in just a day was far too strong for anyone to ever coerce.  
  
Hercules suspected that Euphrastus had more than mere gladiatorial games in mind for his headstrong prisoner.  
  
As he ran along the steep, muddy road into the mountains, Hercules encountered two more groups of bedraggled but joyous escaped slaves.  
  
The sun was in the eleventh hour position by the time he peered through some dense under-brush for his first sight of the infamous Yasserupas.  
  
Hercules frowned upon seeing the wide-open entrance.  
  
He'd never seen such an obvious trap but then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  
  
Despite his size Hercules was a very nimble and fast-footed individual.  
  
Passing the shattered gate he paused to admire Iolaus's handiwork, " I think I've created a monster. ", he said facetiously, noting the still saturated ground, the pieces of broken sheathing and the four stunted pylons.  
  
He had a pretty good picture of what Iolaus had done and nodded approvingly, " Excellent job, partner! "  
  
Then he darted through the deserted compound and into the castle. His progress continued unimpeded.  
  
Hercules came across the shrine to Hera and anger hardened his regal features.  
  
It'd be nice if, for once, his diabolical stepmother would take an interest in harassing somebody else.  
  
Sooner rather than later the witch was going to run out of minions, weapons and schemes.  
  
Talk about not being able to take a hint.  
  
Hercules heard distant demented laughter and soon found the source.  
  
From one of the windows of Euphrastus's castle that overlooked the gallery Hercules's eyes were fixed on his endangered ally.  
  
However joining Iolaus in his battle wouldn't halt the proceedings. It'd just put both of them in an untenable position.  
  
Hercules climbed out onto the window sill and jumped. His strong arms wrapped around a thin decorative marble column and he slid soundlessly to the ground.  
  
The bodyguards of Euphrastus's guest Uryon were the cream of elite defenders. Hercules had only taken two or three steps before these men detected his presence. They immediately formed a protective phalanx between him and their master.  
  
Seeing that his approach was more or less stymied, he tried a less direct tack.  
  
The four guards adjusted and remained an inpenetrable obstacle as Hercules moved closer to the arena.  
  
Euphrastus pointed to Iolaus and smiled like a salivating predator,  
  
" Usually my champions have slaves to practice on but since your pesky partner freed them all last night, HIS life is forfeit. "  
  
Uryon looked at Euphrastus with shock, " He freed ALL of your slaves... by himself? "  
  
Euphrastus shrugged, " Yeah, but it'll be his last heroic deed. "  
  
Hercules heard the tell-tale clash of swords and glanced anxiously out into the arena. He was relieved to see that Iolaus had out-foxed two opponents. It was their swords that'd made contact with each other.  
  
Iolaus retreated to the central plaza where he used the decorative arches defensively, weaving and ducking with typical acrobatic aplomb.  
  
He was too preoccupied to notice that his partner had arrived.  
  
Hercules demanded, " Call off your fighters, Euphrastus. Your Death Games are hereby cancelled.", and resumed his steady yet wary advance upon the smug villain.  
  
The slave-king looked at Uryon expectantly, " Well, man, don't wait until he knocks our heads off before you order your men to attack. Do it now! "  
  
Uryon said one word, " Repel! " and his four men sprang into action.  
  
Hercules seized one of the heavy alabaster benches and raised it over his head. He lobbed it at the two closest enemies and danced out of the path of another's savage spear thrust.  
  
The bench bore both men to the ground as Hercules grasped the shaft of the spear.  
  
With an abrupt yank, he took possession of the weapon himself.  
  
A fourth guard leapt onto one of the benches and launched himself at Hercules.  
  
As he crouched to avoid the flying foe Hercules swung the spear like a staff and knocked the other guard off his feet.  
  
The air-borne guard over-shot him, hit the top of the wall and was pushed over into the arena as Hercules stood up again.  
  
Meanwhile the guard Hercules had knocked down had bounced back to his feet with amazing speed.  
  
While Hercules leaned over the wall to see whether the guard below had been injured, the last of the elite guards sprang at him.  
  
His momentum carried them both over the wall into the arena.  
  
It was more than enough of a spill to render the bodyguard senseless.  
  
For his own part, Hercules lay on the hard arena floor for several long moments grimacing as he collected his rattled senses and caught his breath.  
  
Euphrastus jumped up and down in elation over this development.  
  
Over on the dias Iolaus heard Euphrastus's pandemonium and paused in his evasive tactics to see what he was carrying on about.  
  
His sharp eyes saw three bodies lying on the arena floor that hadn't been there before. They were just below where Euphrastus was dancing like a fool in the gallery.  
  
Curious as always, Iolaus broke away from his sport and ran towards the still forms. He saw Euphrastus run down to the wall above where the bodies lay but he didn't see the spheres in the slave-king's malicious hands.  
  
Hercules stirred and pushed himself to his knees. He was greeted enthusiastically by his delighted ally, " Hercules! Nice of you to drop in! "  
  
Hercules stood up, saying deprecatingly, " Easy for you to say. "  
  
He looked around and shook his head unhappily, " This is another fine mess you've gotten us into, Iolaus. Got any ideas how to get out of here? "  
  
Iolaus knew Hercules was being drole. When he was trying to think of a plan being funny seemed to get his creative juices going.  
  
Iolaus raised his sword as some of the fighters began to encroach.  
  
Hercules was as determined as Iolaus not to participate in any gladiatorial games. However there were about fifty professional fighters just as determined to draw them into a fight one way or another.  
  
Perhaps because they recognised the natural warrior in Iolaus, they concentrated on provoking him.  
  
Hercules noticed that his ally held his sword left-handed and grimaced everytime he moved. He seemed as agile and energetic as usual but he was obviously injured.  
  
Iolaus saw the worry on his friend's face and tried to reassure him, " I'm alright... so far. This hero gig ain't exactly for the faint of heart, is it? " His dynamic azure eyes met Hercules's compassionate cerulean eyes and they both smiled in tacit comprehension.  
  
Subject closed.  
  
Hercules tried to wrench open the door that lead into the pit but he couldn't get any purchase on the smooth metal-clad surface.  
  
Iolaus shook his head, " That's a dead-end, Hercules. Let's try the gate. "  
  
They began to edge towards the portcullis.  
  
Euphrastus was bored with their non-combative strategy. He decided it was time to liven up the game.  
  
He cocked his arm and yelled, " Iolaus! " very loudly as he rocketed the blue sphere at him.  
  
Hercules knew that Euphrastus had obtained some kind of weapon from Hera... why else would a felon like him patronise a god; any god? As Iolaus raised his sword to bat away what he thought was a bola or a mace, Hercules realised that IT was THAT divine instrument of destruction.  
  
" No, Iolaus! Don't let it touch you. ", he yelled apprehensively. His ally lowered his sword immediately and twirled out of the orb's trajectory.  
  
It hit the hard ground and shattered into millions of translucent droplets.  
  
One of the harmless-seeming drops touched the ground as Hercules and Iolaus watched with intense anticipation.  
  
The ground vibrated and, as more of the drops hit the floor, the arena became a rollicking earthquake epicentre. Everybody in the arena was knocked off their feet by the shaking.  
  
Hercules had a bad feeling that things were going to get worse when they did.  
  
At each point where a blue drop had touched earth, a tendril suddenly erupted. Each had a set of wicked three-inch long fangs that dripped some kind of toxin.  
  
Iolaus was the closest to the divine crop and he was the first one attacked by them. He learned instantly that they were mobile and could, in fact, move with great speed.  
  
He sliced two of the aggressive tendrils in half. The pieces regenerated into new tendrils.  
  
Dropping his sword, he picked up a shield and retreated. All around him the blue tendrils spread out and began to attack Euphrastus's fighters.  
  
Hercules cried, " Don't use your weapons. It just makes it worse. ", but his words went unheeded.  
  
He dashed to one of the fighters' rescue and tried to free him from one of the tendrils. Its venomous fangs had pierced the man's flesh in several places and, as Hercules watched in horror, the man became petrified inch by agonising inch.  
  
Up in the gallery Euphrastus was maddened with excitement at what was transpiring down in the arena.  
  
He threw the red orb and screamed, " Hercules! ".  
  
Both Hercules and Iolaus dove trying to catch the sphere before it touched the ground. It brushed the tips of Hercules's fingers, ricocheted, hit the ground and disintegrated.  
  
This time the drops were red and the tendrils they produced didn't have poisonous fangs. Instead they had ferocious maws lined with rows of sharp teeth.  
  
The two heroes looked at each other and then at the sea of blue and red divine menace.  
  
" Only Hera could come up with creations like these. ", Hercules complained bitterly.  
  
Iolaus didn't care who'd invented them. He was only interested in how to defeat them, " So, weapons are useless... How about fire? "  
  
Hercules had that look on his face. A plan was being born.  
  
Turning to his friend, he said, " We have to get to the centre dias. "  
  
Iolaus grinned madly, " Piece of cake! "  
  
Hercules smiled at their running joke, " Last one there buys lunch! "  
  
Iolaus retorted, " Just as long as WE aren't the lunch! "  
  
That said, the two friends began their perilous trek through the hordes of voracious tentacles.  
  
Crossing the arena proved to be extremely arduous. Not only were the tentacles very aggressive but the ground was rutted like a farmer's field waiting to be seeded.  
  
Hercules grabbed two of the vicious red tendrils and, in the ensuing struggle, they attacked each other.  
  
Seeing this development, he tried it again. When the same reaction resulted he called to his partner, " Iolaus! Try to set them on each other. "  
  
His ally had seen what Hercules had accomplished and gamely attempted to duplicate it with the blue tendrils. Not being as strong as Hercules made his task abit more difficult but in the end, Iolaus prevailed.  
  
Some of the surviving fighters had given up fighting the tendrils and were just trying to ward them off. Afew were even trying to follow them as they made their painstaking way to the dias.  
  
The ground was still rumbling and quaking periodically.  
  
Iolaus had just wrestled another pair of tendrils into mutual hostility when the ground heaved under him.  
  
He was picking himself up off the ground when one of the blue tendrils wrapped itself around his left leg. Before he could contend with it, other tendrils attacked and, as he fought them off, Iolaus felt a sharp pain as the tendril sank its fangs into his calf.  
  
By the time he was finally able to remove it, Iolaus knew the damage had already been done.  
  
Well before he caught up to Hercules, his leg was already turning numb. Iolaus did his best to ignore it. A little bit of poison wasn't going to stop him. Especially not when Hercules was counting on him.  
  
Hercules thought that there seemed to be fewer of the monsters to contend with but that the rest seemed larger and stronger.  
  
As he pulled a tendril off of one of Euphrastus's fighters, Hercules tripped in one of the ruts and fell heavily.  
  
He'd just regained his footing when one of the red tendrils sank its battery of sharp teeth into Hercules's left wrist.  
  
Fortunately the thick, studded arm-band that covered his fore-arm protected his wrist from the marauding creature.  
  
He clamped his powerful right hand on the tendril and pulled it off him.  
  
His Herculean temper was beginning to fray with the unrelenting nuisance. He hurled the tendril through the air at Euphrastus.  
  
Both he and Iolaus laughed as Euphrastus and Uryon beat an hasty retreat from the gallery.  
  
They were almost to the dias when Hercules grabbed Iolaus's arm and froze.  
  
Side-by-side and absolutely motionless they watched as all the blue tendrils congregated into one dense mass. In a few moments all the individual tendrils had merged to become a jumbo-sized version of monster tentacle.  
  
Its enormous size set the ground to convulsing again as it thrashed about the arena.  
  
Finally Hercules clambered up onto the dias and paused to survey the situation.  
  
There were only sixteen or seventeen of Euphrastus's fighters left alive. The churned up arena floor was littered with bodies. The giant blue tentacle was concentrating on trying to catch the few remaining fighters still out on the arena floor.  
  
Iolaus had stopped to assist one of the fighters and, as they reached the dias, the blue tendril was attracted by their movement.  
  
While helping the wounded slaver he'd rescued up onto the dias, Iolaus was oblivious to the fact that the giant tentacle was zeroing in on him.  
  
Hercules saw the danger, however, and snatched a torch as he ran to intercept the monster before it reached his partner.  
  
Iolaus turned at the last second and raised the shield to ward the creature off.  
  
Hercules leapt into the air and stabbed the nightmarish creation with the blazing torch.  
  
It recoiled dramatically and in doing so, flailed about wildly.  
  
Just as he was about to make a perfect landing Hercules was hit by the crazed monster and was sent flying head-over-heels.  
  
When he came to rest, Hercules looked around dizzily and saw that he was surrounded by scores of rabid red tendrils.  
  
He was back at square one again but this time he was the only target. His eyes hardened to indigo as his resolve turned to iron, " If you want me, you're going to have to want me really, REALLY bad! ", he seethed as he slowly backed towards the dias.  
  
Iolaus tried to run to his partner's aid but his left leg completely gave out on him. He fell flat on the ground and realised without his mobility, he was in dire trouble.  
  
Things were tough enough as they were.  
  
He pushed himself to his feet and tried again. Using his shield to clobber the snapping and snarling tendrils, Iolaus beat a swath towards Hercules.  
  
His friend was venting his frustration by slamming tendrils left, right and centre. Long before Iolaus reached him the walls and gallery were draped in red tentacles. Hercules realised that when the tendrils were removed from contact with the ground, they expired.  
  
It was rather like pulling weeds except these weeds were carnivorous.  
  
Hercules continued to wrack havoc in the tendril sea until the giant blue tendril attacked.  
  
He somersaulted out of the monster's path at the last second. Ignoring that it was coated in some kind of malodourous slime, he retaliated by lifting the blue tendril completely off of the ground.  
  
It was very heavy and thrashed vehemently but Hercules maintained his grip. For several moments he held the creature above his head and clearly felt it weakening with every passing second.  
  
However Hercules knew he'd never hold it aloft long enough to kill it because it was already beginning to slip. Then, too, there was the unrelenting harassment perpetrated by the blood-thirsty red tendrils.  
  
So with all his might, he threw the tendril into the gallery. It writhed on the elevated, man-made surface while he caught his breath.  
  
Iolaus tore off his jacket, prepared to wipe away the venom that had seeped onto his ally but Hercules shook his head, " The poison is only toxic when it gets in your bloodstream, Iolaus. Like this, all it is, is an annoying, smelly mess. "  
  
As Iolaus put his jacket on again, he crinkled his nose and remarked, " Pew, are you sure that stuff can't kill by scent? "  
  
Hercules considered that possibility but quickly dismissed it. He felt no adverse affects from the gunk at all.  
  
The giant blue tendril was still twitching but it was plainly weakening and posed no further threat.  
  
" One down, a million to go! ", Hercules trumpeted as he followed Iolaus back to the dias.  
  
As he moved, Iolaus was very heartened to feel the sensation returning to his leg. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling but it was better than nothing.  
  
As they reached the dias Hercules paused as if listening to some undetectable sound nobody else could hear and shook his head in exasperation, " Not another one! "  
  
He turned dejectedly as all the red tendrils began to amalgamate.  
  
Watching the plethora of tendrils become one gigantic red, very carnivorous behemoth as he rubbed his tingling leg, Iolaus quipped, " Two against one. Not bad odds! "  
  
Hercules looked at him sideways, " Sometimes, Iolaus, I think you actually enjoy this kind of thing."  
  
His ally grinned wickedly.  
  
The truth was that, to some extent, they both did.  
  
The job now was twofold. Rescue the rest of the fighters and get that portcullis open.  
  
So they split up.  
  
Iolaus began to stage rescue missions while Hercules made his way to the gate.  
  
Now that all the individual tendrils were gone Hercules was able to reach the gate in a flash.  
  
However the giant red tendril keyed on his movement and attacked.  
  
Hercules carried two torches with him for just this situation. As he rolled to his feet after dodging the creature, Hercules impaled it with both firebrands.  
  
Not just the arena but the whole cavern began to rumble as it thrashed madly about.  
  
Hercules had an arduous time staggering to the gate as the ground buckled and heaved beneath his feet. He'd just reached the wrought-iron portcullis when the floor beneath him disappeared.  
  
Hercules clung to the bars of the gate as a huge fissure cut off that half of the arena. The arena walls started to crumble and he felt the heat of molten lava oozing higher and higher in the massive crack beneath him.  
  
He was able to pull himself out of the fiery canyon but he was stranded on the portcullis. Before he could decide which direction to go in, the giant red tendril hit it and made his decision for him.  
  
The portcullis and the surrounding walls were demolished by the creature's attack but Hercules somehow managed to avoid harm.  
  
He held on for dear life as the portcullis was knocked hundreds of yards through the air and crashed against the cavern wall.  
  
He quickly extricated himself from the wreckage and hunted for cover as the tendril attacked again.  
  
He picked up a twisted piece of the portcullis and brandished it at the incoming fiend but it abruptly aborted its assault.  
  
Hercules looked out into the arena and caught the flicker of flaming arrows. He looked closer and saw Iolaus kneeling on the dias with a bow in his hands. Several of the fighters were supplying the flaming arrows as his partner provided a diversion, giving him enough time to get out of harm's way.  
  
He saw an entry that lead beneath the gallery and bolted for it.  
  
The gigantic red tendril set its sights on the dias.  
  
Iolaus and ten of the fighters he'd rescued scattered in all directions as the tendril attacked. The ornate marble columns fell like petrified trees as the creature chased after its fleeing prey.  
  
Iolaus avoided the destruction but one of the fighters was pinned beneath a fallen pillar.  
  
Iolaus tried to shift it but only succeeded in aggravating his broken rib. Obstinately, he wedged his shield under the column and with all the might of his powerful legs, strained against the shield. He shut his eyes and screamed in agony as the column was leveraged enough for the fighter to wriggle out from under it.  
  
When the man was clear, Iolaus collapsed, gasping, against his versatile shield. He was climbing shakily to his feet when he was hit from behind and sent flying through the air. He landed on his face in the churned up dirt. Grimacing in pain, he looked to see who'd hit him.  
  
He saw the enormous tendril snatch one of the fighters who was standing in exactly the same place he'd been seconds earlier.  
  
Iolaus realised that that fighter had pushed him out of danger and lost his life in the gesture.  
  
He sprang to his feet with fresh vigour and purpose, determined not to let that man's sacrifice be in vain. His pain and exhaustion faded as his azure eyes shifted to steel-hard cobalt, " Time for a little pay-back! ", he murmured fiercely, arming himself with the first sword he could find and retrieving his battered but unbent shield. Thus equipped, he eagerly took the offensive.  
  
The nine surviving fighters saw his intentions and quickly followed suit.  
  
All around them, the arena was rapidly deteriorating.  
  
The monstrous fissure that had almost swallowed Hercules spawned tributaries. The ground continued to pitch and buck while the once formidable walls steadily collapsed.  
  
Hercules was making his way through the Pit, pausing to free anybody he came across while trying to keep his balance in the earthquake. He didn't have time to search for keys so he used his raw strength to snap shackles and bend cell bars.  
  
The Pit was caving in from the weight of the giant blue tendril that he'd thrown on top of it and from the current havoc being wracked by the even larger red tendril.  
  
One of the first people Hercules released was the poor flogging victim.  
  
As he laid the half-conscious man on the ground there was a sharp crack behind him and Hercules turned just as the cat-o-nine-tails was about to strike.  
  
He evaded the nasty instrument of torture and, with his lightning reflexes, grabbed it before it could retract.  
  
He looked down the length of the whip at the taskmaster and remarked angrily, " You've inflicted quite enough pain with that thing. I'm confiscating it! "  
  
He pulled on the whip, drawing the slaver inexorably towards him. Then with great relish, Hercules sent him flying across the Pit with a devastating backhand.  
  
He threw the whip in a nearby forge, picked up the unconscious man and slung him over one of his shoulders.  
  
Then he finished releasing all the rest of the prisoners.  
  
When everybody was finally free, Hercules picked up the unconscious taskmaster and soon found himself in the same vestibule that Iolaus had fled into earlier. The iron-studded door at the end of the corridor lead into Euphrastus's castle and Hercules guided the escapees through it as quickly as possible.  
  
He put the two unconscious men on the floor in the grand hall of Euphrastus's castle and as he turned to leave, said to the others, " Please make sure you take these guys with you when you go. "  
  
One of the men was in a quandary, " But... what should we do? " ,he wanted to know.  
  
Hercules shrugged his shoulders and replied, " You're free to do whatever you want now. ", and dashed down the passage, up the stairs and back out into the devastated arena.  
  
Iolaus was the only fighter left standing and even he was on his last legs.  
  
Hercules was rushing to his friend's assistance when the centre dias vanished in a ear-shattering roar. In its place was a crater that spewed ribbons of molten lava and billowed with clouds of deadly gases.  
  
Iolaus was an exhausted, battered wreck. When the voracious red tendril knocked the sword out of his hand, he tried to retreat but it wouldn't relent.  
  
It landed a heavy blow that sent Iolaus tumbling through the air until he crashed into the arena wall. He fell stunned and winded on the trembling ground, peering through an enervating haze at the encroaching danger.  
  
The attack never came.  
  
Hercules used the monster's preoccupation with his ally to dart in and lift it off the quaking arena floor.  
  
He staggered under the awesome burden and frenzied thrashing of the tendril but kept his grip and his balance with heroic determination.  
  
With a loud cry, Hercules heaved the monster into the ever-widening crater of lava.  
  
Then he turned and shook his head wearily as Iolaus pulled himself to his feet, " The Death Games are officially extinct. Let's get out of here before we are too. "  
  
They stumbled their way through the passage under the gallery that lead to the castle as the cavern continued to fill with lava and gases.  
  
When they reached the castle Iolaus grabbed Hercules's arm, " We've got to find Euphrastus. It's time he paid for all the pain and suffering he's inflicted on others. "  
  
Hercules hesitated but he saw the fires of rectitude in Iolaus's eyes. His partner was right. Euphrastus had preyed upon the helpless and innocent far too long. If he got away now, he'd just start his cycle of sadism and slavery all over again some place else.  
  
So they searched the castle fastidiously but found no trace of the slave- king.  
  
As they passed through the shrine to Hera, Hercules frowned pensively, " I wonder why there were two monsters, Iolaus? "  
  
His friend grinned, " Maybe she got a deal at the monster emporium sale? "  
  
Hercules persisted, " Remember? Euphrastus called YOUR name when he threw the blue orb. When he threw the red one, he called MY name. ", his voice trailed off as Iolaus's wide eyes met his in a simultaneous moment of enlightenment.  
  
Iolaus made an exaggeratedly annoyed face and threw his hands in the air, " Just terrific! As if lightning bolts, inhuman enforcers and Nemesis weren't enough, now I merit the monster treatment? "  
  
He grinned boldly, " I think, actually, that I'm flattered! "  
  
Hercules shook his head in wonder at his friend's neverending audacity, " I think we have another project for you and Chiron to work on. ", he said, not entirely in jest.  
  
They finally left the castle, resigned to the probability that Euphrastus had escaped.  
  
However, in the centre of the compound they came upon a blackened, smoking pile of ash.  
  
Iolaus crouched, picking up the scorched gauntlet that'd belonged to Euphrastus and said solemnly, " Well, it looks like Euphrastus learned the hard way that Hera isn't the forgiving type! "  
  
Hercules was about to comment further when there was an enormous explosion that knocked both of them to the ground.  
  
The castle was blown to pieces by the force of the blast.  
  
Hercules and Iolaus scrambled to their feet and ran for their lives through a shower of masonry and other debris.  
  
Behind them the hole in the cavern roof was belching thick black smoke and the ground began to split into fiery veins of steaming, sizzling lava.  
  
Hercules and Iolaus didn't look back.  
  
They ran until the ground beneath their feet was reassuringly stable.  
  
Then they stopped to catch their respective breaths. Hercules gazed at the distant plume of dark smoke and remarked thoughtfully, " You know, if it wasn't for Hera's tendril monstrosities, Euphrastus and Yasserupas might still be in business. "  
  
The expression on his face was bemused, " I don't believe I'm actually saying this but didn't Hera do a good thing by doing a bad thing this time? "  
  
Iolaus looked at him as if he was crazy, " Are you sure that poison didn't affect you somehow? ", he asked.  
  
Hercules cringed good-naturedly, " I know it sounds nuts but if she hadn't provided those tendril things, then the arena would still be intact and Euphrastus would still be alive, ecetera ecetera. "  
  
Iolaus saw his point but was loathe to credit Hera with anything even remotely decent, " I think, Hercules, that that cavern was a dormant volcano all along. Its eruption was a totally natural coincidence. As for Euphrastus, all Hera did was beat me to him. "  
  
Hercules laughed and slapped Iolaus on the back fraternally.  
  
He yelped painfully which made Hercules frown, " Are you alright? "  
  
Iolaus shrugged, " I'm not bad. A broken rib, a headache and a black eye aren't much to complain about considering the alternatives. "  
  
He tripped on one of the chain remnants that still dangled from his ankles and implored in a long-suffering voice, " Can you PLEASE get these things off of me? "  
  
Hercules shrugged, " Oh, I thought you were trying to set a new fashion trend or something. ", he commented dryly.  
  
It took him scant seconds to break the shackles and Iolaus sighed deeply, " Thank you, that feels much better. "  
  
Hercules started down the road again, " I met your cousin Sylvana earlier today. She has a very cute daughter. "  
  
Iolaus frowned, " Sylvana? Eulaya's sister? She lives in Hemnolas nowadays. How did you meet her? "  
  
Hercules replied, " She was one of the slaves you rescued last night, partner. She's in Parthea with the others. "  
  
Iolaus smiled with immense pleasure, " Fantastic! Sometimes I think this is a small, small world we live in! "  
  
Hercules laughed, " The world isn't so small... you just belong to a really big family. "  
  
Their laughter echoed down the muddy mountain road as they began to relax in earnest.  
  
There was a spontaneous celebration when the two weary heroes finally reached Parthea.  
  
Evanthea and Sylvana mobbed Iolaus as soon as they saw him. Hercules laughed heartily at his friend's dilemma.  
  
As the villagers gathered around him, shaking his hand and congratulating him on his heroics, Hercules felt a deep warmth wash away his weariness.  
  
These were the reasons he did what he did. Not for the glory or the honour. Just to see the smiles on happy peoples' faces and to hear them laugh again after a danger had past.  
  
He crouched beside Sylvana and smiled at her adorable little girl, " What's your name, sweetheart? ", he asked softly.  
  
The child answered, " Serena. "  
  
Iolaus overheard her and looked at Hercules with a mixture of grief and pathos.  
  
It'd only been two months since Hercules's beloved wife Serena had been murdered.  
  
Iolaus had seen Hercules struggle to survive the loss of his entire family. That had been a terrible ordeal but, just when it seemed he'd found a new love to help ease that perpetual pain, more tragedy.  
  
This time the guilt and grief had been much harder for Hercules to bear because they'd been such kindred spirits.  
  
Iolaus had had his share of heartbreak but he'd never suffered the cruelties of fate that his dearest friend had had to endure.  
  
He only knew that, for a person as compassionate and sensitive as Hercules, so much tragedy was unbelievably painful.  
  
It was also so outrageously undeserved.  
  
Iolaus saw the smile momentarily flicker on his friend's face but he said cheerfully, "That's a beautiful name, Serena. "  
  
Hercules noted the sorrow in Iolaus's eyes as he stood up, saying, " Now that the hard part is over, let the celebration begin. "  
  
Evanthea instantly spirited Iolaus away and Hercules sighed.  
  
He prefered that his ally enjoy himself rather than fret over his emotional state. Iolaus was a good man and the best friend any man could ever have but he had a tendency to be a tad over-protective.  
  
He had, indeed, felt a pang at the unexpected mention of her name but he was far from falling to pieces over it.  
  
One day he and Serena would be together again.  
  
Until then, life went on.  
  
Hercules picked up little Serena and said, " Want a piggy-back ride? "  
  
Hercules laughed at the little girl's infectious giggle as he placed her on his broad shoulders.  
  
A little rest and relaxation mixed with good people and lots of laughter and gaiety was just what he and Iolaus needed.  
  
Tomorrow was soon enough to return to the task of saving the world.  
  
The End 


End file.
